


believe in the heart, for tomorrow

by karasunotsubasa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Bonding, Courtship, Happy Ending, Knotting, M/M, Marriage, Mating Bites, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Victor Nikiforov, One Big Happy Family, Rimming, Royalty, Single Parent Victor Nikiforov, Smut, Yurio is Victor's son, knot fucking, mentions of future miracle mpreg baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 20:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: "Look," Yuuri says, and he sounds as tired as he feels, "he has a son. So, with luck on our side, he won't want to have another baby until at least that boy reaches adolescence. That gives us, me and him, the time we need to come to terms with this. It gives us time to consider what we both want, and to get to know each other before we begin to think about bringing another heir into the world. That's... that's a good plan, no?"Oh, Yuuri. If only you knew...





	believe in the heart, for tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentAvera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentAvera/gifts).



> so! this is the actual fic I wrote for SilentAvera for the yoisecretsanta18 but bc I'm a dumbass who somehow forgot it needs to be rated t or lower for the event, I ended up having to post this later. and now, this is the 'later' ;3c  
> I hope you all still enjoy this one, even if it is somewhat similar to KO (which yes, I hear you, I'm thinking of writing more for //winkwonk)
> 
> bon appetit!

 

 

 

"He has a son."

Mari wrinkles her nose at the file that she's looking through. Her reaction only earns a sigh from their mother, but no one says anything outright, while Mari continues: "And the kid is almost ten. That would make the prince barely... what, seventeen? When he gave birth to him?"

"They lead different lives in Russia, from what we know. It is not our place to judge that which we don't fully comprehend," their father replies, but that is all that he's willing to say.

Mari, however, has far more to share.

"Can't we find someone who isn't already burdened with one child to rear then?" she asks. "Who's to say that Prince Victor will even want to have another under his care?" She drops the file onto the table and picks another, opening it up to show them the crest of the family they are all close with. "Now, here: Prince Phichit of Thailand. You know he and Yuuri get along famously, so why can't we use this opportunity to strengthen our connection with the mainland?"

"But Yuuri doesn't want to marry Prince Phichit," the Queen interrupts with a little smile. "Do you, Yuuri?"

All eyes turn to him and Yuuri hates it. He hates this entire conversation, but above all he hates that he is required to make the choice. The choice that will be his future, and his country's future, and the future of his entire family – the future of this nation, laying in his hands, like he's supposed to know what to do with it.

Which he doesn't.

He rubs a hand over his face, and gives in a tired voice: "Phichit and I are friends, yes, and I do like him, but marriage is just... I can't see myself doing what needs to be done with Phichit. He would be a good father and he is an upstanding omega, but I worry that on my part I would not be able to... perform."

His cheeks redden with a rosy flush that his mother only smiles kindly at. If possible, it makes matters even worse, so Yuuri closes his eyes, clears his throat and finishes:

"That's, well, that's a little too much for me."

"And a complete stranger with a child of his own somehow inspires more of your faith?"

Mari's arched eyebrow seems to be answer enough for the both of them. Because, truly, this is an awful way to find him a royal match and neither of them ever wanted it to happen. Even as kids, they were always speaking of marrying for love, so now... now it all just seems like a twist of the fate's dagger in both their wounded hearts – ironic and cruel.

Their parents are kind people, despite the circumstances which have found them in this predicament. They didn't force them into any of the usual arrangements while they were growing up into headstrong, righteous people under their care. But when almost two years ago an angry witch cursed Mari to forever be barren and never find love... Yuuri became the kingdom's only hope for the continuity of their line – something his parents cared little for, but the ministers demanded. And while they could still push it off in time, the idea of a little babbling newborn to spoil and coo over? That, that the King and Queen could not resist further.

Still, they didn't want to force his hand by choosing his match. And, thus, they have gathered the eligible candidates from across all lands and have asked for Yuuri to make the choice to his own liking.

As if _that_ made the decision any easier.

"Look," Yuuri says, and he sounds as tired as he feels, "he has a son. So, with luck on our side, he won't want to have another baby until at least that boy reaches adolescence. That gives us, me and him, the time we need to come to terms with this. It gives us time to consider what we both want, and to get to know each other before we begin to think about bringing another heir into the world. That's... that's a good plan, no?"

"It sounds reasonable," his father concurs and Yuuri offers him a shaky smile in thanks.

"We would hardly wish to force you, Yuuri," his mother adds kindly. "You boys take your time, it doesn't need to happen now. You're right. Maybe this is the right way to go about it."

"But what if you don't like each other?" Mari asks. She's the dark voice of reason, as always, and Yuuri flinches at the thought she brings. "Within a month you'll be wed and what then? What if he's one of those spoiled omega princes, who only wishes to be pampered and left alone, and never delivers on his promise?"

Yuuri opens his mouth to answer, but... what can he say? What if Prince Victor is one of those omegas? What could he do then?

"How about we add a clause to the contract that within five years of their first meeting, Prince Victor is required to present us with an heir to the Royal Throne of Japan?" their father offers. "That should give you ample opportunity to get to know each other and conceive a child, while Prince Victor's son grows up into his independence."

Mari looks like she wishes to object, but their father lifts a hand and adds: "Should that not happen within those five years, the contract will be voided and Prince Victor will be released from his vows, while Russia will pay us yearly dues until a suitable candidate presents himself again and the child to carry on the line is born. How about this?"

The contemplating silence of the family crawls under Yuuri's skin like a snake. They are all concerned with his wellbeing, but they are also concerned with the matters of state, and Yuuri cannot bring himself to be finicky about this when so much rests upon his shoulders. He releases a hissing breath of acquiesce, and says:

"Very well. Let us go forward with that. I will wed Prince Victor of Russia, and we'll see about the rest in due time."

The scowl on Mari's face doesn't lessen, but Yuuri dares not look at it. He chooses to look at his mother's smile, at his father's serious, yet light nod, and he chooses to believe that maybe this decision is for the best. That maybe, somehow, this will prove to be everything he ever wanted.

After all... what else can he do but believe in the brighter tomorrow?

 

 

***

 

 

The morning of the Russian convoy's arrival, about four months of delegations and various concessions on both sides later, is spent in a flurry of activity. Guards are rushing around the palace, maids bring out new sheets, drapes and pillowcases, all the flowers in the main hall are replaced with fresh, delightfully-smelling lilies – Prince Victor's favourite, apparently – and all men and women alike are in a state of frenzy.

Yuuri makes it out of his bed very much unlike the others: with a headache and an itch behind his eyes that he cannot scratch, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into his eyeballs. He slept not a wink that night, too nervous about meeting his intended.

He shouldn't be. After all, if anything goes wrong they can still make adjustments and find a different match. It is never too late for this, yet even telling himself all that does not help to quell the nauseating feeling in his belly in the slightest. Yuuri just wants to be left alone, and be alone, for as long as he can.

Today, however, he is not allowed to do that.

He's swept in the turmoil of the castle as soon as he finishes his breakfast. He's dressed promptly in the blue robes tailored for this specific day. The navy fabric is heavy, but it is far heavier in its grandiose than in its weight, for on Yuuri's back a beautiful golden peacock has been stitched in with threading so fine that it looks like it is moving with every one of Yuuri's steps.

It does not suit him, he thinks. And yet, he wears it, because Prince Victor expects it of him – of a Prince of the Royal House of Katsuki.

As soon as he finishes dressing, he is taken to his mother, who hands him a wooden box of fine craftsmanship that makes Yuuri raise his brows in confusion.

"A courting gift. For your intended," the Queen explains. "Go on, open it."

Yuuri does as directed and, indeed, that could be nothing but a gift for Prince Victor. Inside the box, on a bed of navy velvet sits a stunning necklace. The gold of the frame brings out the white of the diamonds and the clear, dark blue of the gems that hang from it like big pearls of dew from a flower. It all shines in the daylight like water does in the first rays of the sun.

"It's beautiful," Yuuri compliments.

"Let us hope His Highness thinks so as well," the Queen adds with a pleased smile on her lips.

It is said that Prince Victor's hair is as pale as silver, that his eyes are as blue as the cloudless sky.

Yuuri smiles a little at his mother, while he gives the box to his attendant. "I'm certain he will."

In fact, he is not certain at all. And he grows even less, the more time passes and the closer to Prince Victor's arrival it gets. The court, nobles, onlookers, they all gather in the main hall to snatch a glimpse of the Prince of Russia, but even though everyone fills the chamber with life and gossip, Yuuri can only feel dread.

The doubts that have been plaguing him since the day he has made this choice now sound like alarm bells inside his head. He fights against them, and fights hard, because this is what must be done, but his heart... his heart cannot be swayed.

Or that is what he thinks until the doors finally open and the Prince of Russia appears to them all.

At his hand is a small boy, blond and green-eyed. He doesn't look happy, but neither does the Russian Ambassador walking before them. The old Lord Feltsman, whom Yuuri always believed to be scary, seems to be scowling even more today than any of the other times Yuuri has seen him in the past four months. The reason can be easily divined, but Yuuri chooses not to dwell on it.

Instead, he looks past him, past the little blond boy, who must be Prince Victor's son, and then – then the Russian envoy stops before the dais with the two thrones, and Yuuri sees him clearly.

And, truth be told, he feels lied to.

"Your Majesties," Lord Feltsman bows as low as his old back allows. "We are honoured to arrive at your court, and thank you for your hospitality."

"The pleasure is all ours, Lord Feltsman," the Queen answers kindly. "We have been awaiting you with much anticipation."

"Then allow me to introduce to you the Prince of Russia, whom I believe you've been waiting for so eagerly." Lord Feltsman steps back and gestures with his arm. "Here is His Royal Highness, Prince Victor Andreyevich of the Royal House of Nikiforov, son of His Imperial Highness, the Emperor Andrey Nikiforov."

Yuuri, for all that he stands to the side, cannot say he doesn't feel absolutely betrayed.

Prince Victor steps forward and offers a little bow to his parents, courteous and sweet as is beholden of any omega of such high breeding. But that, that matters little in Yuuri's eyes. What matters more is that he has been lied to, and lied to _cruelly_.

They said, Prince Victor is handsome. They lied.

To Yuuri's eyes, there is nothing handsome about Prince Victor – he's _gorgeous_. Like a god who has come down from the heavens to grace this land with his presence, he is gorgeous beyond human comprehension, and Yuuri's heart stops its rapid beating at the first sight of him.

They said, Prince Victor's eyes are like the sky. But they lied.

They are blue, and warm, like ocean waters in the summer. Inviting, yet treacherous, willing to drown any careless sailor who braves them. Yet Yuuri feels compelled to try, as if called by a siren song, off to his demise.

They said, Prince Victor's skin is fair like the winter snows. But they lied.

It is pale, that much is true, but is does not seem as cold as one would think, invoking the image of the winter landscape. Prince Victor's aura sparks with warmth, instead. His skin seems to glow pearlescent under the lights of the day, much more like a stunning inside of a shell found at the sea, tempting with its sun-soaked warmth and its sea-side song.

They said, Prince Victor's hair is silver, but again – they lied.

Like spider webs dipped in moonlight, it falls over his shoulders in long tresses. It's ethereal, glamorous, a sight that even the fae of the woods would be jealous of. Yuuri's fingers twitch at his side – an unconscious reaction to that which he knows is softer than any silk he's ever touched.

They said, Prince Victor is a haughty omega, arrogant, untamed, but Yuuri sees him now, smiling at his parents in a manner that is respectful and polite, and he knows that they lied.

They lied about _everything_.

"Your Majesties," Prince Victor curtseys, as proper of his station. "Thank you for inviting us into your home. We look forward to seeing what joys await us here."

"Welcome, Prince Victor," the King speaks. "We, likewise, look forward to seeing you grow happy and loved in our country. Should you need anything, please, do not hesitate to ask. We soon will be a family, and here in Japan, family means everything to us."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the Prince demurs, bowing once more. "It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, for I hope that my own family will be able to thrive here."

"We hope so as well, Prince Victor," the Queen smiles, a twinkle in her eye. "Your journey has been long, yet I believe we will all find happiness here. But enough of the pleasantries! I am sure you are dying to meet your intended, isn't that so?"

For one moment, Prince Victor looks surprised, but he masks it with another sweet smile.

"Of course, I would love to meet Prince Yuri," he gives.

"It's pronounced _Yuuri_." Mari, who Yuuri was not aware of standing so close by his side, says. She has a mighty scowl on her face, too, one to rival the likes of the Russian delegation. "You might as well learn how to say it properly, if you are to stay here."

"Mari!" Yuuri gasps, flabbergasted. "Don't be rude."

"I am not," she scoffs. "I'm merely pointing out–"

"Forgive me, Princess Mari," Prince Victor injects. "In Russia, we have a much similar name. You see, my son, the second prince of Russia, is named Yuri."

He rests a hand on his boy's blond head, and smiles again. This time, however, that smile is sharp beneath its sweetness as if he could use his gentleness, his kindness as a well aimed weapon.

And he can, Yuuri comes to realize with a slack-jawed awe, because that is exactly what he's doing.

"I am sure it will be a challenge to all of us to learn to distinguish between the two," Prince Victor adds, striking back against Mari's harshness with his own manner of it.

Impressed at the swift rebuke, Mari grins at him. She nods her head in clear approval, and Prince Victor inclines his – a true armistice between the two. Yuuri would be glad for it, he would, as he has never been fond of conflict, but the moment he recovers from his surprise, Prince Victor turns his eyes to him like he knows who he is, and all feeling gets lost in Yuuri's body.

He's numb from head to toe, unmovable, unshakable, and even Mari's subtle nudge in his side doesn't unfreeze him. He doesn't know what to say, far less how to actually speak, so it comes as no surprise that it's Prince Victor who takes the first step towards him.

He bows, offers his hand, and waits, but Yuuri... he can't...

Blue eyes peer up at him when the silence stretches and all that uncertainty Yuuri has been feeling is reflected right back at him. It's that, more than anything, that makes him act. Gently, Yuuri takes Prince Victor's offered hand and turns it around, so that he can bow over his wrist and press his lips to the scent gland that instantly fills his nose with the omega's scent.

A simple greeting, that's all it was supposed to be.

But when that scent, the sweet, warm scent of a summer day fills his lungs and wraps itself around his heart, Yuuri can't hold back the gasp that settles right in the palm of Prince Victor's palm. Yuuri's eyelids grow heavy, so he closes his eyes for a moment. It isn't long enough to make Prince Victor uncomfortable, but it's enough to deepen his scent: to heat it up into something that Yuuri can no longer deny.

A scent of attraction.

He pulls himself up, but never drops the wrist he holds. His thumb rubs over the gland as if he has no control over it, yet he doesn't wish to stop it. Even more so, once his eye catches the clear blue of Prince Victor's gaze, an undercurrent of mutual interest passes between them without words.

"Your Highness," Yuuri says, heart full to the brim, "it's an honour to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Prince Yuuri," the man replies, this time pronouncing Yuuri's name correctly, if still somewhat stiltedly. It warms Yuuri's heart further, nonetheless. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard much about my soon-to-be-wed alpha."

Heat colours Yuuri's cheeks, but it's impossible to look away from the playful smile that makes home on Prince Victor's face. Yuuri drinks it in, while he asks: "All good things, I hope?"

"Indeed," Prince Victor agrees. "Should there have been any bad things I should've learned?"

"That is not for me to judge," Yuuri answers, thinking on all his shortcomings, and thus, souring his good mood. "But, alas, I wish we could get to know each other better before passing judgements."

"It would be my preference as well, Your Highness."

"Yuuri, please," Yuuri interrupts. And at Prince Victor's surprised blink, adds: "We are officially betrothed, Prince Victor. It would very much make me happy, if you called me by my given name."

The slow, surprised, yet delightedly soft smile that makes Prince Victor bow his head a little almost stops Yuuri's heart. He's so beautiful like this, sweet, and as if touched by the offer... Yuuri is caught in his charm enough to forget to breathe until the warm reply falls from Prince Victor's lips.

"Then I insist you call me by my given name as well," Prince– no, _Victor_ says.

And it sits warm in Yuuri's heart. As warm as the scent that lingers on his mind for long after they both retire to their chambers.

 

 

***

 

 

The gardens of the Royal Palace are always magnificent in spring. The white stone paths compliment the soft pink petals of the cherry blossoms and the blue cloudless skies over their crowns, while birds nest in the bushes of privet that rise along the winding pathways. It's a soothing scenery, one of tranquil beauty, and the stunning silver of Prince Victor's long, silky hair fits there like it was made to match.

Yuuri can't quite control his staring as they stroll down the white stones. Not once, it earns him a darling smile from the Prince – one that makes Yuuri flush and turn his gaze away with haste – but it never daunts him for long. As if charmed, Yuuri's eyes return to the man at his side with no regrets or hesitations, until the next time he is caught.

It's like a little game between them, a sweet tease that makes Yuuri's heart flutter like a newly hatched bird flutters its wings to keep its balance.

"It's beautiful here," Victor compliments in a voice that is as soothing as the scenery. "I've never seen anything like it."

A small smile, sweet and soft, plays on his lips when he turns to meet Yuuri's eyes. So as not to find himself lost in the clear blue of his gaze, Yuuri quickly turns away. Aware of the flush on his cheeks, he says: "My great-grandmother was fond of cherry blossoms, so great-grandfather, King Tsuyoshi, ordered the garden to be made as a courting gift for her. It is said that their love bloomed more every year the trees sprouted flowers, and that even now it continues to grow."

Victor's smile is as unnerving as it is sweet, and Yuuri licks his lips to combat his nerves. It's true that he was the one who asked Victor on this walk in order to get to know him better, but... talking has never been one of Yuuri's fortes.

And neither has courting.

He feels decidedly odd in his own skin, what with the anxious clenching of his hands and the tightness in his back, and the silly, cold sweats. Yet even through all that he knows he must do this. He must combat the uncertainty and hesitations, and fulfil–

"Is that a pond I see over there?" Victor's voice interrupts his thoughts.

Yuuri blinks at him, noticing the awestruck joy on the incredibly handsome face of his intended. Prince Victor's lips are parted on a breath and his eyes are aglow with delight, which makes him look like a goddess would: ethereal, divine, sublime.

Yuuri fights a blush before he registers what is being asked of him, and once he does, he looks towards where Victor is pointing.

"Ah! Yes, that's one of the few koi ponds we have here. Would you like to see it?"

"I'd be delighted," Victor answers warmly. "Lead the way, Yuuri."

His name falling off of Victor's lips with such ease gets Yuuri's blood rushing to his head. He is not allowed any respite, because Victor then takes him underarm and his touch burns in all the places his hands rest. Despite the clothes and Victor's gloves, Yuuri is helpless against the rush of excitement that fills him. It must translate into his scent as well, because Victor cocks a curious head at him in a gesture so graceful that Yuuri is once again caught unawares by his beauty.

"Forgive me," Yuuri breathes. "I seem to have been caught up in my admiration."

"There is nothing to forgive." Victor shakes his head with a smile that says far more than his words. "If I am to be honest with you, my– Yuuri," he changes halfway with a small smile to himself, unaware of what that little slip of tongue has done to Yuuri's weak heart, "I must confess myself just as charmed _by you_."

Yuuri's surprise at that must be obvious, because Victor laughs: a sound of joy, not mocking. It trills in Yuuri's ears like a sweet bird's song, hopeful and darling and pure.

"I have heard much of the Prince Katsuki, you see," Victor explains. "They say the reason you hide away in the palace is that you're ugly. Deformed. Ill. There's many of those rumours running around. I admit that I was... terrified of being tied to an alpha of such countenance." He pauses, but quickly rears his thoughts in, and gives Yuuri a somewhat frightened glance. "Oh, please do not think me vain! That is not the reason why I fear such a thing. My son, my little Yuri... His father was not a good man. I simply prayed for the history to not repeat itself."

"Prince Yuri's father," Yuuri repeats, think of what he knows of the man. "He was the General Commander of the Russian army, was he not? Died in an attempted coup by the resistance?"

Victor nods morosely. "It was a political marriage, much like our own is to be. Back then I was young and hoped to serve my lord husband like a good omega should, but... we're all better off without that man."

"I am not aware of what transpired between the two of you, nor shall I ask. If you wish to share, I promise not to judge, but until that time, I will not insist upon it." Yuuri offers Victor a little smile, which he hopes is reassuring enough. "Your past is your past, and I have no right to demand to hear about it. I simply hope that you will be able to give us a fair chance despite of what happened with your previous alpha."

"I believe that won't be so hard," Victor says softly. "After all, you two are nothing alike."

Yuuri did not even know that he worried about this, but when he feels the relief colour his heart, he cannot deny being glad at hearing Victor say so. In silence, he guides Prince Victor towards the pond and then around it – to the stone bench that sits at the very edge of it. They both take seats, close, so close that Yuuri's knee brushes against Victor's, and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears threatens to render him deaf.

"This is lovely," Victor sighs. He bends backwards and dips the fingers of one hand into the calm waters of the pond. "I can see why your great-grandmother agreed to bond with King Tsuyoshi."

"Speaking about bonding..."

Yuuri clears his throat, nodding at his attendant. The man steps forward and offers him the box with the necklace his mother had ordered especially for this occasion. Yuuri takes it and opens the lid before he presents it to Victor, whose eyes instantly widen.

"I heard that betrothed omegas wear golden collars in Russia," Yuuri says, mindful of the slight tremble of his hands. "This is hardly a collar and it isn't truly gold, but I hoped you might appreciate something more subtle. If you wish to wear it, that is. I would never force it upon you. The choice is yours, and yours alone."

 "I never enjoyed wearing a collar, but..." Victor's hand reaches out to touch the necklace. "This isn't a collar. It's a necklace. And I could, I could not wear it, you say?"

Victor's question is much like a whisper: soft and hushed, as if filled with disbelief. It strikes against a cord in Yuuri's heart and fills him with unprecedented protectiveness, which makes him reach for Victor's hand before he can truly think of it.

"Of course! Should you wish it so, I will chuck this entire box into the pond behind us right this instance. Just say the word and it shall be done, I promise."

The blue of Victor's eyes is curious, yet it is just as determined when he nods. "Do it."

And Yuuri does.

Without a second's hesitation, he snaps the box shut and throws it into the pond. The necklace, the diamonds, the precious stones, the gold – all of it. The loud splash it makes as it sinks into the waters of the pond is the only sound that passes between them for a long moment.

Victor, wide-eyed, surprised, looks at Yuuri as if he wants to say something, but nothing makes it past his parted lips. So Yuuri waits. And he waits, and he waits, and–

Victor starts laughing.

It's a stark contrast with the peaceful air of the gardens, and a stark contrast to the tension in Yuuri's every muscle. Before Yuuri can react – build up his defences and prepare for the mocking – Victor jumps to his feet and lunges at him in a move that Yuuri neither predicts, nor knows how to handle. Strong arms come around him, squeeze him tight enough to steal his breath, and Victor's warm body presses against him shamelessly.

It's only a hug, only a little embrace, but Yuuri's heart jumps to his throat and stays there.

"You," Victor breathes into the side of Yuuri's neck where his face has naturally rested, "are incredible, Yuuri Katsuki. _Thank you_."

Painfully aware of their attendants standing only a few feet away from them, Yuuri rests uncertain hands on the small of Victor's back. Victor smells of happiness, of sweet content and warm acceptance, and it's a heady mixture to take in from this close. Every instinct in Yuuri's body is telling him to hold Victor tighter, to hold him close, but he resists it, because he doesn't wish to impose.

He's an alpha. Victor, an omega.

Despite Yuuri's amiable character, it'd be easy for him to force his way onto his betrothed. And because it'd be so easy, and because Yuuri would never forgive himself for it, he chooses to give Victor the freedom to direct their relationship and, in doing so, to earn Victor's trust, loyalty and love.

Because as much as he might fear the future of their arrangement, he also can't help but look towards it with hope.

 

 

***

 

 

Within two weeks of the Russians' arrival, Yuuri has not seen the little Prince even once. He knows from his mother that Prince Yuri spends luncheons with the King and Queen, and that he hates green tea and wrinkles his nose at miso, and he has heard that Mari has caught him asleep on the Queen's lap once, but when it comes to Yuuri's contact with the boy... there is none.

Every day Yuuri meets Prince Victor for a stroll in the gardens and a tour of the palace, but no matter where they go, or how long they stay together, the question of little Yuri never resurfaces. At least, not until Yuuri himself gathers his courage and asks Victor about it.

"He's shy, not that he'd ever admit to it," Victor explains with a small smile. "And probably angry at me, too."

"Angry?" To show his support, Yuuri takes Victor's hand. With a gentle squeeze, he asks again: "Why would he be angry at you? If anything, shouldn't he be directing it at me? For trying to replace his father, or–"

"No, no. It's none of that," Victor softly stops him. He squeezes Yuuri's hand, which makes Yuuri feel a little silly, since he was supposed to be the one offering comfort, not the other way around. "Yuri is just upset that we brought him here. He didn't want to come, but... I couldn't just leave him back in Russia, all on his lonesome. They would use him, raise him to be a mindless puppet. I couldn't allow it."

"You seem to have no trust in the Russian court."

Yuuri doesn't press him for answers, but this and the conversation they had about Victor's former husband built a picture of Russia that Yuuri cannot help but suspect of the worst.

Yet, still, Victor shakes his silver head.

"No, I do not, but it's different for Yuri. There is little love between the nobility and me. Ever since I presented as an omega, they have lost all interest and respect towards me. Only when Yuri was born was I allowed a voice in the matters of state again, but at that point I was hardly interested. He, Yuri, is their little prince, their only hope of restoring Mother Russia to her former glory, so they view him as the next in line while completely disregarding my place as my father's heir."

There is a sort of bittersweet smile on Victor's face and a pain in his eyes that makes Yuuri's own heart clench. He wants to do something to ease Victor's unnamed suffering, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't know what line he's allowed to cross, so he hesitates.

And yet, when Victor gives him a smile, which stinks of fakeness in a manner that almost hurts, Yuuri reaches for him on reflex. He brushes the silky silver hair behind a dainty ear and gently, tenderly, runs his thumb down the side of Victor's face in a gesture that he hopes conveys his feelings enough for Victor to read through them.

"You never have to go back," Yuuri promises him. "Here, you'll be safe. I won't let anyone mistreat you, and neither shall I. And if, by chance, you feel that I have, then I give you my permission to tell it to my face. Or to tell my sister, or my parents." He pauses, bites his lip, and decides to say what's in his heart: "We all hope that this can one day be a place you, both of you, call home."

There is no denying the emotion welling in Victor's eyes. Yuuri sees it in the blue that brightens with unshed tears, and he smiles softly in return. Without saying anything, Victor nods his head. Someone could say it is a cold thing to do against the words of love that Yuuri offered him, but in Yuuri's heart that single nod is far warmer than any spoken sentiment ever could be.

Slowly, he lifts Victor's hand – the one he's still holding, because he refuses to let go – and he rests a kiss against Victor's knuckles. He's rewarded with a flush, beautiful and pink like the cherry blossoms, that rises onto Victor's cheeks, and much like it, a mirror of it brushes over Yuuri's own.

They stand there, flushed and charmed and still. And the air, the air smells of spring.

 

 

***

 

 

The face of little Prince Yuri is tight with a scowl, which only deepens the moment he sees Yuuri. Pretending not to notice it, Yuuri smiles at him. And then he smiles at Victor, who leads his son by the hand, only to receive a smile in return – a warm, beautiful smile that makes Yuuri's heart tremble joyously in his chest.

"Good day, Prince Yuri," Yuuri offers kindly once the two stop before him. "How do you do?"

The boy's face darkens at his voice and he scoffs, refusing to reply.

"Yurotchka, we talked about this."

Victor squeezes the little hand he's holding. His voice is stern, but the look on his face is not unkind. It's encouraging. Hopeful. And Yuuri turns his hopeful eyes to the little prince as well.  

"Fine," Prince Yuri bites out. His green eyes squint up at Yuuri, and he says: "I'm good. No thanks to you, pig."

The gasps from the attendants register in Yuuri's brain, but he can only blink in surprise. His lasts longer than Victor's, because the next moment Victor turns to his son with a hard, cold expression on his face. It's that, that snaps Yuuri out of it.

"Do you like pigs?" he asks Prince Yuri before Victor can get a word of a scathing reply out, like Yuuri knows he has every right to.

"No. I don't like pigs. And I don't like _you_."

" _Yuri Vasilievich_ ," Victor snaps in a voice that is harsh, but just as tired. "We do not talk to people like that! Especially not to nobles and royalty. You have no idea what–"

Gently, Yuuri rests a hand on Victor's arm to interrupt what must be a scolding little Yuri has already heard before. There is no need to punish the boy when no harm was done, after all.

"Do you like food, then?" Yuuri addresses the little prince, but he gets no reply.

The green eyes glower at him in a way that is far too menacing for a wee boy of ten. Just at a glimpse, Yuuri can tell that Prince Yuri will be a force to be reckoned with when he grows up, but for now...

For now, he kneels before the boy and smiles at him again, indulgent and kind.

"You see, we have a dish here in Japan," he says. "It's called katsudon. It's made with rice and eggs and pork. Do you know what animal pork comes from?" As predicted, he gets no reply to his question. "Pork is pig meat. And, if I can say so myself, it's quite delicious when prepared right. In fact," He grins, "katsudon is my favourite dish. I was thinking of having some for supper today, but eating alone is never much fun, so... would you like to join me and try some as well, Your Highness?"

"N–"

" _Yes_ ," Victor says over the refusal from Prince Yuri.

The two trade glances and Yuri must lose the silent battle, because he scowls again and turns back to Yuuri.

"Fine, I'll try it," he gives. "But if it's disgusting, I'm going to spit it out in your lap."

Yuuri can't help but laugh at that, because, really? He'll be very surprised if the boy doesn't end up asking for a second helping by the time they're done with supper.

"You have got yourself a deal, Prince Yuri," Yuuri agrees. "Now then, shall we have lunch?"

He motions to the table set for three. The little prince moves to take a seat without waiting, but Victor steps up to Yuuri with guilt in his eyes and an expression of uncertainty on his face.

"I'm so sorry about him, Yuuri," he says. "I promise he's not a bad boy. He's just... I think he's unsettled here, in a new place. I'm sure that his attitude will change with time."

Yuuri shakes his head with a smile. "Don't trouble yourself over this. It's nothing I can't handle."

The way Victor's entire countenance softens makes Yuuri's heart swell with warmth, too.

"I don't know what we did to deserve your kindness, but I'm eternally grateful to have it. Thank you, Your Highness."

Before Yuuri can answer, before he can swallow the emotion that rose in his throat at the sight of the sweet tenderness in Victor's tiny smile, they're both startled by little Yuri's annoyed voice:

"Can we finally eat, or are you two intending to trifle till supper?"

With a small grin at the boy's impatience, Yuuri offers his arm to Victor, who takes it with no hesitation. Their shoulders press together, warmth against warmth, and a smell of content and hope wraps them in a soft embrace. They make their way to the empty seats, where Yuuri pulls the chair out for Victor. Once he's seated, Yuuri leans over its back to whisper in Victor's ear the answer he never got to say.

"No need to thank me, Victor," he says, aware of the sudden spike of heat in Victor's scent. From this close, he can clearly smell him, but he chooses to ignore the urge to follow that sweet scent to the gland below Victor's jaw, and instead adds: "It's me who should be thanking you for being someone that I know I can grow to care about. Thank you."

And when he takes his seat at last, it's to a slightly more petulant glare from little Yuri and a glance full of melted softness from Victor, and in his heart Yuuri knows that this... this is good.

 

 

***

 

 

The date of the wedding approaches faster than Yuuri expects, but he isn't as terrified of it as he once was. He's content with it. Victor is a kind man, a good omega and a caring father – all things that make Yuuri happy and charmed with him.

It also greatly helps that after that initial courting gift, every other since, Victor has accepted with a sweet smile, a tender blush and a flutter of his beautiful eyelashes. Yuuri's heart can hardly find a moment to stop its swooning. And truth is, he doesn't even want it. He's more than glad to be falling in love with his betrothed, because he can see that the affection is not one-sided or superficial in any way.

It's right. It's just right for them.

Which is why on the day before the ceremony, he shows up at the door of Victor's chambers and pulls him out on a surprise trip. There is something special he wants to give to Victor as the next to last courting gift, and he's both nervous and excited for it.

"Where are we going?" Victor asks, easily keeping Yuuri's pace.

"My chambers," Yuuri says. And then squawks at the flush that shows on Victor's cheeks. "N-not like that! Please, don't misunderstand my intentions. I just... I have a gift for you, but it's there, so we need to, um... Is that, is that acceptable? Or should we get someone to come with...?"

"No need," Victor answers softly.

He squeezes Yuuri's hand and steps a little closer, turned towards him so that the front of his robes brushes against Yuuri's arm. He's close, and he's warm, and the scent that surrounds him is calm, but full, as if brimming with the warmth of his acceptance of Yuuri's intentions.

"Even if your objective was of a different nature," Victor adds, dancing his fingers up the back of Yuuri's hand, "I still think I would come with you, my prince."

Yuuri's breathing halts, trapped in the vastness of attraction and, and _love_ , that suddenly spills inside his chest like a levee has been broken on the river of his feelings. His own scent rises to wrap itself with Victor's, and under his watchful gaze, Yuuri sees Victor's reaction: the darkening of his eyes, the deep inhale and shudder that makes him tremble, the irresistibly tempting way Victor bites on his lip before he releases it – plump, red, so–

"I've found that there is little I would deny you, should you ask for it," Victor admits in a whisper that makes Yuuri's skin tingle with want.

Aware of the rapid pulsing of blood in his veins and the high flush on his cheeks, Yuuri turns his head away. It helps little, since the thick scent of arousal still hangs in the air and he breathes it in with every single breath, but he tries to clear his head off the treacherous thoughts of those sweet, sweet lips...

"You shouldn't say things like that," Yuuri says, although his voice is as weak as his heart. "Not until tomorrow."

"Then will you allow me to say those things after we're wed?" Victor asks, once again stepping closer.

He lifts a hand to touch Yuuri's cheek, and turns his head to look him in the eyes: and then, then there's no escape. Raw, naked want peers at Yuuri from the blue of Victor's eyes, and an answering desire rises in Yuuri's scent. Victor's touch feels heated on his skin, and even more when Yuuri takes the hand that holds his chin and presses a kiss to it – because that's all he's allowed to do for now.

"You can always say what you desire, Victor," Yuuri tells him, turning Victor's hand over and pressing his lips to the scent gland on Victor's wrist.

It oozes with his scent, spills it so thickly that Yuuri can taste it on his tongue. With his mind clouded by it, Yuuri glances up at Victor, and sees him how he himself feels: hot, wanting, and much affected by their proximity.

"Tomorrow," Yuuri promises in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Tomorrow," Victor agrees, and the longing in his own fills Yuuri with silly, silly happiness.

"Now, come. I have a gift for you," he reminds with a tug to Victor's hands.

Victor's smile is a beautiful thing, but when he loops their arms together and gives Yuuri a brilliant, dazzling view of it from up close, Yuuri can hardly hold back his own smitten grin. Together, they walk down the corridors to Yuuri's chambers. Wrapped in the happiness that wafts around them, they notice nothing, no one – it could be just them in the world and all would be right. All would be perfect.

_And it is._

Yuuri never hoped to have something of such wonder in his life, but now that he has, he thanks Lady Luck for her blessings with his whole heart. Especially when Victor smiles at him like that...

"Here," Yuuri opens the door once they make it. "After you."

The look Victor sends him over his shoulder as he steps inside is one of playful teasing, but Yuuri can't help but flush at it, still. Just thinking of taking Victor in his arms makes his blood boil with untameable need, so he pushes those thoughts away and, instead, focuses on that which they came here for.

It is not as difficult a task as one would be led to believe – not when that thing makes itself known by yapping sweetly from the little basket, sitting on one of the chairs.

"What is that?" Victor asks, breathless, but Yuuri has a feeling he already knows.

He smiles, walking over to the basket. "You mentioned before that Prince Yuri isn't too happy about being here, so... I thought that he could use a companion. As could you."

He opens the lid of the box and gently pulls out the little poodle pup from inside. Cradling him safely in his arms, he comes back to where Victor is standing as if rooted in place, and offers his betrothed a sheepish smile.

"I never asked, but I hoped... Do you like dogs, Victor?"

The cooing sound that rips itself out of Victor's mouth when the pup gives a tiny yip is answer enough. Yuuri stifles his laughter and hands the dog over to him. Victor's hands are warm when they brush against Yuuri's as he moves to support the little body that wiggles in his arms.

It isn't much, but somehow Yuuri knows Victor will be good to him.

"He's yours if you want him."

"Really?" Victor asks, looking up at him with big, love-filled eyes. "Can I really keep him?"

"Of course."

Yuuri watches as Victor brings the pup closer to his chest. The soft sound from the dog is one of happiness, not fright, and when Victor leans down to kiss his little head, the pup licks at the tip of his nose, which makes Victor giggle – and Yuuri, Yuuri's heart _melts_.

"You ought to think of a name for him, too," he reminds absently.

Victor hums, too smitten with the pup to even look at Yuuri now. But that's alright. It's more than alright. The soft, precious smile on Victor's face is everything that Yuuri needs to know how well this gift has been received.

"I think I will let Yuri name him," Victor decides.

He seems to hesitate then, and peers up at Yuuri, as if uncertain about something. And when he speaks next, Yuuri realizes why.

"If that's okay with you?" Victor asks in a smaller voice, waiting for permission, which Yuuri realizes must be what omegas in his country are supposed to do. Always obey their alphas, defer to them, submit.

It makes something angry churn in his chest, so he swallows, and takes a deep breath. None of it is Victor's fault, and so he should bear with none of the feelings Yuuri harbours towards a society that teaches people that anything other than absolute equality is a way of the world.

Instead, Yuuri gives Victor a smile, hoping it's as reassuring as he means it, and he steps up to him.

"Whatever you want, Victor," he promises.

He lifts his hands and takes Victor's face gently, only to place a little kiss on Victor's forehead, and smile at his soon-to-be husband, who looks at Yuuri with endearing surprise in his crystal blue eyes.

"Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy as well," Yuuri adds, and he means it with his whole heart.

 

 

***

 

 

He sees them both for supper that same day, in the light of the candles and torches, and the fireplace joyfully crackling in Victor's chambers. The pup sits in little Yuri's lap, while Victor rises from his chair to greet Yuuri with a big smile and a sweet call of his name.

Yuuri loves the sound of it, falling from Victor's lips, and he loves the way Victor's eyes gleam with delight whenever he says it, too. Like a secret traded just between them, it's precious and dear to him, beyond all other compliments and empty words of flattery. He never thought a simple thing like hearing his name could mean so much, but – as Yuuri kisses Victor's hand and finds himself kissed on the cheek in return – his heart swells with the power of it, and he adores it.

So as not to allow Victor to steal all of his attention, Yuuri turns his gaze to the young prince, who has been ignoring him during the greeting, but now keeps his steely green eyes on him without fear. 

"Do you like him?" Yuuri asks with a smile at the ever-present scowl he's graced with.

"I prefer cats," Prince Yuri tells him. The gentle way he keeps stroking the curly brown fur tells a different story, though.

Yuuri can't help it when his smile widens. He steps a little closer and whispers to the small Prince in a voice that everyone in the room can most likely hear:

"If you do good at caring for him and studying properly, I'm sure we could convince your father to allow you to keep one as well."

The boy's face lights up with hope for a single moment. He looks at Yuuri, then to Victor, and when Victor gives a nod, Prince Yuri smiles – and it's a beautiful smile, the first one Yuuri has ever seen on his face. The little child lights up with it, and shines. Oh, how he shines! In this smile, for the first time, Yuuri can see a small piece of Victor.

The smile drops the moment Prince Yuri turns to Yuuri again, but the light in his eyes remains. So Yuuri smiles too, glad that at least the boy doesn't seem to hate him as much as he did at first. Maybe with time–

"You better remember it, because father will forget," Prince Yuri tells him. "He always forgets."

Victor makes a small noise of protest, but he says nothing, leaving it to Yuuri to deal with the boy.

"Then, I suppose, we better seal it with a promise," Yuuri says. He lifts his right hand and closes his fits, leaving only the last finger unbent. "Here, in Japan, we make promises like this. Come on, you try."

When little Yuri copies the gesture, Yuuri locks their fingers together and uncurls his thumb. Once Yuuri does it too, he touches them, and sings:

 

 

yubi kiri genman  
“yubi kiri genman”

uso tsuitara  
If (you) tell a lie…

hari sen bon nomasu  
Drink 1000 needles

yubi kitta  
(and) cut (my) finger

 

 

He releases the boy's hand, and smiles.

"Now, if either of us breaks this promise, they'll have to drink a thousand needles," he tells him.

The green eyes widen at that, and Prince Yuri gapes. "What?! Why?"

"Who knows?" Yuuri grins. "But it teaches you to never go back on your promises, right? Maybe if your father made such a promise, he wouldn't forget things."

A look of consideration passes across little Yuri's face, and he looks at Victor and then at Yuuri, before he makes his decision. He nods, determined, and announces: "You'll teach me the song."

Victor clicks his tongue softly. "Yurotchka, we say 'please' when we want something from others. His Highness is not your servant. Where are your manners?"

The scowl is back on the boy's face, but despite it – he turns to Yuuri and, through greeted teeth, repeats himself:

"Please, teach me the song."

It's a small thing to ask, and it's a small favour to agree to, but Yuuri does it with a warmth in his heart that he never thought it capable of.

"It'll be my pleasure," he returns.

And when they sit down to sup, he feels like everything is finally set on a course towards the brightest future possible.

 

 

***

 

 

"So you're going through with it," Mari says from her seat in one of the chairs in Yuuri's chambers.

The maids scramble around with boxes and packages – presents from those attending the wedding. Yuuri already finds the sound of the door opening and closing every other second grating, but he says nothing about it. He grits his teeth, breathes through the flutter of his heart and looks straight ahead: to the moment he and Victor will promise each other forever.

"I like him, Mari," Yuuri answers his sister. "I really do."

"And does he like you too?"

"I believe he does." The memory of Victor's soft smile from the night before as they said their goodbyes brings a warm smile to Yuuri's own lips. "He's a good man, Mari. I couldn't have asked for better."

"Be that as it may, should he even think of hurting you..."

She doesn't need to finish. Yuuri knows.

He throws her a thankful look over his shoulder, while his attendant straightens the extensive cravat of his shirt.

"I hope you offer him the same protection, sister," he says. "He will, after today, be family. And we protect our own, no?"

Mari snorts at him, but the frown on her face lightens a bit. "You don't need to remind me."

Even though her voice is hard, it always is, Yuuri can tell that she's happy for him. And that, that makes him certain that this is the best decision he could've made.

 

 

***

 

 

Later, when with his eyes covered by a white blindfold Yuuri vows his protection, love, support, honesty, and loyalty to Victor, whom he can't see, but can smell in every breath he takes, it's both overwhelming and not enough all at once. Yuuri wants to see him, touch his cheek, look into those beautiful blue eyes, but tradition needs to be upheld so he doesn't. The longing in Victor's scent tells him he isn't the only one struggling with the ceremony, and it helps – it soothes him, but it also makes the ache in his heart even stronger.

The moment after the ceremony, as the sweet violin strings chirp the beginnings of the mating dance, Yuuri almost breaks out of the learned steps to reach Victor faster. They're both blinded, both unable to see each other or anyone else, but as they take measured steps to meet in the centre of the floor, they're drawn together by more than scent alone.

It feels as if... as if Yuuri's whole body is attuned to Victor in a way it hasn't been before. As if he can sense him among the gathered crowd, the beginnings of the bond forming within his heart and tugging him close, close, closer by the invisible thread of belonging...

And once they meet, that first touch of hands coming together is far more special than any before. Stars burst from where their skin brushes, but it's nothing in comparison with the feeling of Victor's body pressed into his as they join their steps to finish the dance as one: in unison, harmony, perfect, effortless alignment.  

Victor's hair tickles Yuuri's face when they spin, his tender, happy scent makes his throat itch, and the breaths, the little soft breaths Yuuri hears him take... they're enough to fill his head with more than simple joy. In just a moment, once this dance is over, Yuuri will take their blindfolds off and finally, finally, they will–

The music stops, and so do they.

Yuuri's heart thumps hard in his chest, but there is no fear in its singing – it's only anticipation, longing, _love_. He breathes through it and unties the knot behind his head. The blindfold slips from his eyes and he lets it drop to their feet, because all his attention is instantly stolen by the sight before him.

Victor, blindfolded, stands before him in his stunning purple robes that glimmer and glisten in the torchlight. And he's beautiful, gods of the Old, he's so beautiful that Yuuri's eyes sting a little with unshed tears of happiness. He's lucky, he's so lucky to have this man be his – but not only lucky about his appearance. Lady Luck has blessed him with a man of beauty, of kindness, of love and gentle spirits, and one who never shies away from speaking his mind.

And Yuuri, oh, Yuuri is absolutely smitten with him.

His fingers tremble slightly as he unties the knot behind Victor's head, but they cease once he presses them against Victor's warm cheeks. The blue eyes blink at him, lazy and slow. The moment they take him in, though, they soften into something so mellow that Yuuri's heart does not hesitate twice. Gently, Yuuri pulls Victor's face down and kisses him with as much adoration as he can muster – and it's a lot.

Victor answers with much the same, pliant in his hands. It's divine, the feeling of his lips, and it's sacred in this moment that joins them together as one in the eyes of everyone watching.

As much as Yuuri approves of them all knowing that Victor is his and he is Victor's for now and forever, the thought of sharing this with them, this sweet scent coming from Victor, this precious blush on his cheeks, this little gasp that he leaves on Yuuri's lips when Yuuri kisses him again... somehow Yuuri finds himself wanting to monopolize that.

"Let's go," he says once they part again. The look in Victor's eyes changes into something more desperate as he swallows.

"Please," he whispers into Yuuri's lips, his voice heavy and thick with yearning.

That tiny plea is all it takes for Yuuri's instincts to take over.

Before anyone can stop them, Yuuri takes Victor's hand and pulls him out of the room to the cheers and applause of all the gathered guests. Neither of them care for it, though. Victor easily keeps step with him, and when Yuuri looks to him, his face is bright, expectant, and the same expectation awakens in Yuuri's own heart.

Warm fingers thread with his, joined and twined, like they will soon be: two halves of one whole meeting for the very first time.

As if set on fire by this thought, every cell in Yuuri's body answers that call with uncontained desperation. It doesn't take them long to make it back to Yuuri's chambers. They bypass the piles of presents in the sitting room and never halt for a moment before entering the doors that lead further inside – to the bedchamber. Once those close behind them, Yuuri looks to Victor one last time to ask for his consent and approval for what is surely going to happen soon, but it all seems unnecessary the moment he meets Victor's blue eyes.

In two rushed steps, Victor pushes him against the doors and claims his lips like a man who's been starving for it for weeks. And he has, Yuuri realizes with a groan. Just like Yuuri has been doing in the solitude of this very room every night since he first saw his intended. His betrothed. Now, _his husband_. And, soon, his bonded mate.

His hands find their way into soft silver hair and he pulls Victor closer, so close that their scents mesh together into one irresistible smell of lust. It isn't just that that makes Yuuri's head swim, however.

It's Victor's lips, too, soft and pliant against his own, and the touch of his hot tongue against his. It's the sound Victor makes as Yuuri's fingers knot in his hair and tug, and the breathless gasp that allows Yuuri to taste Victor's mouth. It's the scent that that kicks him hard in the gut right then, as Victor opens up to him – the scent of belonging, willing submission, and trust.

Yuuri himself groans at that, the control over his dominant nature he's been born with slipping. But Victor doesn't seem to mind it when Yuuri roughly pulls on him to have him even closer, no. In fact, if the aroused scent that spills from his glands is anything to go by, he is all too happy to allow Yuuri to manhandle him however he pleases. So Yuuri pulls, and bares Victor's neck – the slim, pale column of his throat – and latches his mouth there, tenderly at first, but with more feeling as soon as the first whimper falls from Victor's lips.

"Yuuri," Victor lets his name slip on an open-mouthed moan. Yuuri's entire body shivers with delight, which only grows when Victor's hands wrap around his neck: hot skin on his. "Yuuri, Yuuri... My–"

Yuuri's tongue laps at the already swollen gland under Victor's jaw. It's pink and aroused, and gods of the Old, Yuuri is sure that Victor must look just like that underneath all of his clothes. Suddenly, the urge to see it – to see all of him – gets stronger than the desire to claim him, and Yuuri pulls back with one last kiss to the place where he'll soon be leaving his ever-lasting mark.

"Bed," he croaks. "Let's lie down."

Victor doesn't protest when Yuuri pulls him by the hand to the bed. Gently, Yuuri tugs him closer, and kisses him – soft, as if to contrast their earlier desperation. Like that, he wraps an arm around Victor's waist and lowers him onto the bedsheets.

This position, now, is a different beast entirely. Whereas when they stood Victor was slightly taller than him, now Yuuri can only slide up and tower over him, draw him in, envelop him in his scent, arms, love... _It's divine._

But it's also unfair, because Victor himself is unjustly beautiful.

His silver hair splays around the sheets like a little halo of moonlight around his head, and his eyes – oh, _his eyes_. They shine up at Yuuri like precious gemstones, clear, yet dark, sweet, yet lustful. He's a man of contradiction, Victor is, a man made of both heaven and hell, and Yuuri finds himself willing to explore both as he dips in to kiss his husband's tempting, soft lips yet again.

"We're wed," he whispers once they part. The thought strikes him once more: a little odd, a little new, but warm, so, so warm. "You're my husband."

"And you are mine," Victor replies, lifting a hand to press against Yuuri's cheek. "I could not have asked for a better alpha to mate with."

It would be a lie to say that his words didn't please Yuuri immensely, and a liar he is not. A happy flush settles over his cheeks, but before he can speak again, Victor lifts up a little off the bed. His robe slides open, revealing more of his pale, silky skin, the sight of which awakens a heat of unparalleled strength in Yuuri's groin.

"Enough talk for now," Victor tells him. "I've waited for far too long for this. Let me truly become yours tonight, my lord husband. You promised."

He says it like Yuuri could ever deny him that, and it brings a smile to Yuuri's lips.

"Did I promise you that?" he wonders, humming in thought.

Victor gasps, playfully outraged. "Yuuri! How could you play with my frail heart like that? Oh, when my parents hear about this–"

His words die on Yuuri's tongue, but Victor doesn't seem to care. He responds to Yuuri's kisses with his own and gives as much as Yuuri takes, and then some. Yuuri doesn't know which one of them tugs on the other's clothes first, but soon they are both getting rid of them in a desperate effort to be closer. Piece by piece, robes, shirts, boots – they strew the floor beside the bed.

"You're so beautiful," Yuuri whispers against Victor's lips, enraptured, bewitched, enslaved by the stunning creature he's just wed.

"Me?" Victor gives a soft, breathy laugh that makes Yuuri's skin tingle along his arms. "I'm nothing compared to you."

An appreciative hand runs down Yuuri's chest to where his breeches sit low on his hips, and it stops there as Victor licks his lips. His eyes are intent, focused, and so hungry, Yuuri can't help but feel like he's the pray that has fallen into Victor's trap. Yet, truth be told, be it the pray or the hunter, he wants to be whatever his husband wishes of him, because Victor is worth the trouble. Now and forever, Yuuri knows it.

"So handsome, so sweet, so caring and kind, and yet so strong, too," Victor says, unaware of Yuuri's thoughts. His fingers dip under the waistband of the breeches, and soon his whole hand follows, drawing a gasp and a groan from Yuuri's lips.

"My, aren't I one lucky omega," Victor purrs, stroking Yuuri's cock.

His other hand comes up to undo the buttons on the crotch, so that he has more leeway, but Yuuri can't focus on that. All he can feel is the warm hand around his cock, holding him, cradling him, and it's pure fire that seeps into his veins from that touch. Weak, he drops his forehead onto Victor's, unable to keep his arousal in check anymore.

The moment his scent releases in full is clear – it's all there in Victor's eyes, which Yuuri watches with an almost obsessive greed. They widen at first, crystal blue and beautiful, before they darken to almost black. Lust droops them sweetly, colours Victor's cheeks, too, and Yuuri feels Victor's own scent pouring out to meet him as well.

With a tremble in his back and a growl deep in his throat, Yuuri thrusts his hips into Victor's hand at the same time as he seals his lips over Victor's. It's a cue, as much as he can give, because words are no longer an option. His mind is far too immersed in the pleasure, in the scent of his omega, to warrant any leave.

So Yuuri abandons it. And he does it without a second of regret.

Victor's hand closes around his cock again and he strokes him with as much zeal as Yuuri feels in his own hands that reach for Victor's breeches. Their tongues rub together, slick and hot, and sweet, but it's the feeling of Victor's fingers working him up that drives Yuuri further. He undoes the buttons and plies the breeches off of Victor's hips, which rise to help him with it in an impatient move that Yuuri feels reflected in the clumsiness of his hands.

It's once the material bunches up around Victor's knees that Yuuri smells it: the sweet, potent scent of slick. Almost as if his entire body freezes for one second, he pauses, and then–

Then he rips off the breeches the rest of the way and pulls Victor's legs up and over. The hand on his cock disappears, but that is a little price to pay for what Yuuri intends to do. He bends Victor almost in half, and still, he ignores the gasp and the choked cry of his name that falls from Victor's lips as Yuuri pushes his face right where it belongs – between Victor's thighs, where his hole glistens with slick and his balls hang heavy with arousal.

Whatever protests Victor might have had, they all die down drowned by his moans the moment Yuuri tastes him. Or maybe it's Yuuri's moans, that'd be too hard to tell, but even if they were, Victor is worth every single one of them. He tastes sweet and a little salty, but together it's a thing that makes Yuuri's mouth water for more.

His own body thrums with power, heated by his want, his need, the animalistic instincts that are threatening to take over, and yet, all Yuuri is truly aware of is the feeling of Victor's skin under his tongue, his lips, his hands, and that Victor's hands soon come up to join his own right where he's been holding Victor's legs down by the knees.

Victor's shameless moans fill the air, as if begging Yuuri for more, and more he gives. He laps at the sensitive skin behind Victor's balls, gently nuzzling them with his nose and scenting. Scenting Victor all the way through, until he's soaked with more than just his own slick. Once he's satisfied with that, he lets his mouth trail lower – right to the twitching hole, which slickens even more when Yuuri teases it with his warm breath.

The kiss Yuuri presses to the soft plush of it is tender, but the needy whine that spills from Victor's lips isn't.

"Please," he begs. "Yuuri–"

"You taste so good, Victor," Yuuri praises him, much to the choked breath he gets in return. "So sweet, so ready."

"Yes, yes, I'm ready, please!" Victor assures him, but Yuuri hums into his warm skin.

"Not yet."

Without further ado, he kisses the little pink hole and licks his lips once. They're moist with slick and soon, he knows, his entire face will be a mess, but... it will be worth it. So worth it. It's already worth it when he gives the soft rim the first lick, and even more worth it when he presses his tongue harder against the flesh. It parts for him like it's been made to do just that, and more slick pours right onto Yuuri's eager tongue.

He moans at the taste, unable to do anything other than slurp it all up. He swallows the sweet nectar, which heats up his body from the inside as it slides down his throat to his belly, and even lower – to his hard, pulsing cock. It's impossible not to want more, so Yuuri presses his tongue greedily against Victor's hole again, and again, he licks at it, sucks, and drinks in the slick and the moans that Victor spills as easily as his body opens up to Yuuri.

Soon, even Yuuri's prodding isn't enough. Not for Victor, whose hole loosens up and draws him in with its tight, desperate squeezing, and not for Yuuri, whose chin is dripping with slick, but who wants to taste him more, deeper, sweeter... Yuuri pushes his tongue in harder, curls it inside the cave of Victor's hole until his teeth graze the rims, but it's still not enough, so he brings his fingers to help and that, oh, that makes Victor's entire body twitch in a way that goes straight to Yuuri's groin.

One, two of his fingers slide in easily and stretch the soft, tender insides of Victor's hole. The flesh is now red from all the kisses and sucking, but it's so slick that Yuuri can enter a third finger almost instantly. They squelch when he twists them inside, when he fucks Victor with them, and Yuuri has to clench his free hand around his own cock to keep himself from coming at the sounds Victor's body makes as it yields to him and the pleasure.

"Yuuri... Yuuri, please... I need–"

"What? What do you need, Victor?"

Yuuri closes his teeth around one of the buttocks. He doesn't bite hard, just a little reminder to them both that this is oh so very real, yet Victor's moans, as Yuuri's fingers continue to rub him hard, are a definite cue that he's very aware of that.

"Tell me what you want, Victor," Yuuri whispers, slowing down the thrusts of his fingers to a leisurely caress.

Victor's hips twitch and he gives a little groan, which sounds annoyed, but all the sweeter for it.

"Your cock," Victor whines, and twitches when Yuuri's fingers stroke him deep. He moans, pants, and the slick spurts out of him again while his thighs tremble above Yuuri's head. "Please, fuck me. Claim me. I want– I want to be yours, Yuuri!"

Yuuri's cock throbs at the desperation in Victor's voice. He loves seeing him like this, hearing him like this, but he doesn't think he could muster much more patience to keep teasing him. He slides his three fingers as deep into Victor as they go and rubs the heel of his hand against the balls, pink and swollen, that hang down where Victor's cock is.

"Is that what you want, Victor?" Yuuri asks. "To be claimed? To be mine? To be... bred?"

"By you," Victor pants. "If it's by you, then yes. Breed me, use me, fuck me. Fill me with your pups. I want it all, Yuu–"

Yuuri withdraws his fingers before he knows what he's doing. Those words... those few words were enough to have him completely forget himself. Breed him, use him, fuck him, yes. _Fill him with his pups._

With a needy growl, Yuuri crawls over Victor, who only spreads his legs further to accommodate him. Yuuri rubs his cock against Victor's backside as he looks down into his husband's flushed, aroused face. His lips are as slick as Yuuri's must be, as red from biting as Yuuri's are from kisses. And his eyes, blue and dark and lustful, they are much like Yuuri's own, too.

"Do you mean it?" Yuuri asks. "Do you truly want to have my children?"

"All of them," Victor replies without a second's hesitation. "Two, three, four, five, however many you want. Whatever you want, Yuuri, I–"

As if all his doubts were never there to begin with, Yuuri feels light. Light at heart, but heavy with arousal, still. He needs not be implored twice, however, to fulfil that which he vowed to Victor not so long ago. He takes his cock in hand, lines up at Victor's open, gaping hole – soft, red, welcoming – and he pushes in.

Victor's eyes close as he does and his mouth parts on a breathless prayer. Yuuri feels the same kind of euphoria as the warmth of Victor's body engulfs him slowly, inch by inch. Once he's seated inside him fully, he breathes at last, but his breath disappears when he looks at Victor – his beautiful, stunning omega, who peers at him from beneath silver eyelashes with a fire in his eyes that no one could ever match.

Yuuri bends over him, guides Victor's legs around his hips, and presses his lips against Victor's parted mouth. The kiss is quickly returned, while arms come around him and scent – the sweet scent of a happy, aroused omega, ready for mating – fills Yuuri's nose, and fills up his heart.

Yuuri's hips jerk off their own and Victor gasps, right into Yuuri's mouth. It sends sparks of heat across Yuuri's spine, so he gives a little thrust, and gets a little gasp once more.

"Yuuri," Victor whispers against his mouth. He playfully tugs on Yuuri's bottom lip. "Fill me up. Mark me. Bond me. My Yuuri. My prince. _My husband_."

Yuuri groans at the reminder. It makes him ache so tenderly in his chest to think that this wonderful man is his, forever.

"Do you like that, Yuuri?" Victor asks, pressing kisses down Yuuri's throat. "Do you like hearing I'm your husband? Your mate? Your good, obedient omega?"

Without warning, Victor's scent rises in intensity. Yuuri's own spills out to match it, overpowering and so thick it clogs his mind to everything else. Before Yuuri knows it, he's thrusting his hips into Victor and all conversation is lost – it feels too good to stop.

Victor's grip tightens on Yuuri's shoulders, desperate like the sounds that leave his mouth as Yuuri fucks into him. First, he goes slow, but the pace feels too calm for the storm that's ravaging him on the inside. He pushes in faster, as fast as he can, and Victor's hole gobbles him up as greedily as Yuuri wants to claim it. Victor's appreciative moans only urge him to go harder, faster, deeper, and soon, Yuuri loses himself in that: in the feeling of Victor's pliant body giving way to him as he pounds into him with powerful thrusts that make the entire bed rattle.

It's incredible, this feeling of power and tenderness, Yuuri's hard cock and Victor's soft insides. Yuuri can see the way his girth spreads Victor open far more than his fingers could. If he withdrew now, he could probably see the fleshy pink of his insides as the hole twitches in a need to be filled, but he can't do it. It's too warm there, too slick, and Yuuri buries himself balls-deep with every thrust he makes.

Their skin slaps together in a sinful aria, combined with the squelching of the slick and their moans and groans and pants. The bed's creaking only adds to it, filling Yuuri's ears with a harmony of sound that only strengthens his desire to consume Victor entirely.

And, if Victor's loud moans are anything to go by, he wants to be consumed.

It's too hard to do it this way, though. Yuuri doesn't waste any time in pulling out of Victor's warmth, grabbing Victor's hips and twisting him over. Before Victor's yelp of surprise even ends, Yuuri is sinking back into him, stealing his breath with a moan.

Like this, he can mount him fully. Like this, he can knot him, breed him, mate him... and he does it, urged by the desperate clench of Victor's hole around him.

He feeds Victor his cock as he bends over him. The back of Victor's head smells as good as the rest of him, but while Yuuri is sure his hair is delightfully soft, he bypasses it and leans over his neck. There, he nuzzles the pale skin with his lips, teases with his teeth and tongue, until Victor tips his head back, offering him that which Yuuri wants most – his bonding gland.

The moment Yuuri's tongue tastes the scent there, as sweet and powerful as his slick was, he feels it coming. Heat builds up in his belly, builds up around them, and Victor's moans get louder, sharper, huskier. Yuuri can't help his own groans, which he presses into the skin of Victor's neck as his hips slam into Victor with abandon.

It comes sooner than he'd expect, but once it does, his instinct acts before he thinks twice. His cock buries itself deep in Victor, pumping him full of cum, while Yuuri himself shakes in the force of his release. The knot at the very base of his cock swells, but Yuuri gives one final thrust into the squelching mess of Victor's ass before it can latch – and once it does, and he's safely locked inside Victor, Yuuri's teeth find Victor's bonding gland, which he bites into with relish and joy, and the ecstasy coursing in his veins.

That's what finally pushes Victor over the edge, too: being claimed, being marked.

He gives a short cry and buckles against Yuuri's hips, but the knot holds them together. Yuuri can feel Victor's muscles clenching down on his cock as the pleasure roils over him in waves. It makes Yuuri's own hips jerk deeper, aimless in the search for pleasure past, but that only squirts some of the cum and slick out of Victor's overflowing hole.

It feels good, however. Undeniably good. Yuuri wonders if it feels anything like it to Victor, because he whimpers and mewls, twitching harder, but before Yuuri can ask, he has other things to do. Gently, he licks at the mark he's made on Victor's neck. Soothing the abused, tender skin with feather light kisses, he gives a soft growl deep in his throat – happy, and content, and sated.

"Yuuri," Victor pants underneath him, still shivering in pleasure. "Yuuri, I– I want–"

And Yuuri knows.

He was intending to let Victor mark him back as soon as possible, but in this position... They're both breathing heavily, shaken by the strength of their feelings, and Victor is still clamping down on Yuuri's cock every now and then in the afterglow of his release.

And yet, Yuuri knows it must be done. He will not leave Victor wondering if he's good enough for his alpha. He will make sure he _knows it_.

Gently, Yuuri sneaks an arm around Victor's waist and pulls him to almost sit in his lap. Victor whines at the way Yuuri's knot slides deeper inside him, but it's a sweltering sound: one still full of delirious pleasure.

"Come on, up." Yuuri trails tender kisses over Victor's nape. "Sit back against my chest, Victor."

Victor does as asked, however clumsy because of the knot still bringing him ecstasy. And when his back presses against Yuuri and his weight truly sinks down, they both gasp sharply. Victor's breath turns into a moan as Yuuri's cock pushes still deeper into him, the knot pressing against all the right places. Victor's hips twitch on pure instinct as if to draw out the pleasure that makes them both shudder, but Yuuri wraps his arms around him to keep him still.

He holds him close like the most precious thing, though – and he is. Yuuri's husband, his mate, his beloved. Yuuri can't hold back a shiver of arousal when Victor's body tightens around his cock yet again in a vain effort to invite him to act. It's hard enough to sit still and not fuck Victor again without it, but Yuuri breathes in Victor's scent to ground himself.

He notices the change in it instantly – it still smells like Victor, yes, but it also smells distinctly of Yuuri, as if both their scents have become one. They haven't, not truly, that much is obvious, but with bonding always comes _the binding_. The binding of fates, bodies, scents. And Victor's is already bound to Yuuri from the moment Yuuri bit into the gland that now bleeds their joint scent into the air that smells of them, of sex, of marriage.

"Yuu...ri," Victor whines, clawing at Yuuri's arms which remain wrapped around him. "Can I... please, can I...?"

Victor's thumb drags over Yuuri's wrist, over the scent gland there that throbs with want under his touch. Just like that, Yuuri knows what he needs, and it's the very same thing that his heart desires as well – a bond mark of Victor's making on his own body.

"Of course you can," he tells Victor instantly. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

Victor doesn't wait for anything else. He lifts Yuuri's right arm up from where it was sitting around his chest and brings Yuuri's wrist to his lips. Surprised, Yuuri almost lets him do it, but at the first touch of Victor's soft lips he pulls away.

"Wait, wait! Not here," he explains when Victor whines at having been denied. Before his spirits can fall further, Yuuri uses that very hand to turn Victor's head to him. "I want you to use my bonding gland, too."

Their eyes meet while their necks strain, but it's impossible to look away once they do. Surprise, absolute shock, peers at Yuuri from within the blue of Victor's gaze. The lips he so adored kissing tremble with emotion, but Yuuri can't tell what it is. Not until Victor speaks.

"You... you'd want to? Wear a mark from me on your neck? Out in the open?"

Something vulnerable speaks to him in Victor's voice and Yuuri doesn't need to think twice to know what it is. After all, this reaction could be caused by only one thing: the rejection from his former husband. It is not a surprise that Yuuri didn't expect – after all, Victor's neck has been bare of any marks before he made his own – but it is a surprise he dislikes nonetheless. Anyone who would dare deny Victor something like this is a person that should not be allowed close to him. Ever.

Yuuri sets his jaw hard, wraps an arm tighter about Victor, and replies: "I will wear it with pride, if you choose to give it."

The little hitch of Victor's breath sounds like a sob, but it dies in darling laughter that falls from Victor's lips not long after. While still spread on Yuuri's cock, Victor twists around as much as he can and presses a tender kiss to Yuuri's lips.

"I never thought– I didn't–" he stops himself and releases a shaky breath. " _Thank you_ , alpha."

Yuuri can smell Victor's overwhelming happiness in his scent, can feel it through the one-sided bond, and he knows that all of it is only going to grow when Victor places his mark on him. Oddly impatient for it, he tilts his head up and turns it for better access, bidding Victor forth. That's the only invitation Victor needs to sit his lips against Yuuri's bonding gland: starting with a kiss, and then biting into it with relish that Yuuri's heart mirrors in equal measure. 

It stings, that much is true, but the pain is nothing in comparison to the awareness of Victor that bursts inside Yuuri with warmth and light. He gasps and shudders, and without even knowing how or why, thrusts his hips up into Victor. The scents overwhelm him, his skin feels too tender, and his cock... his cock is suddenly hard and aching, and Yuuri can't stop himself from–

With a groan, he forces his hips to still. It's sheer strength of will that's holding him back from fucking Victor again here and now. He never thought that bonding would be so–

One of Victor's hands finds its way into Yuuri's hair and it grabs him, tugs, pulls, just as Victor himself moans and squirms on Yuuri's cock in a way that is clear as to his intentions. Yet, still, Yuuri opens his mouth to ask:

"Do you want to–"

"Yes, Yuuri, yes!" Victor interrupts him, impatient. "Fuck me again! Breed me! Bond me! Pound me full of your cum and make me reek of you for weeks!"

The sharp sound of Yuuri's breathing is louder than Victor's begging, but it's nothing against the powerful thumping of his heart, which sends that same powerful pulsing right to his cock. Yuuri doesn't need more than that to push Victor onto his stomach and grind down into him with the thick, swollen knot that has not lessened any, but seems to have gained in size even more.

His thrusts begin shallow and slow from the way Victor's body seems to cling to his cock, but every single one comes with a squelch of slick and cum that's already settled inside Victor's hole and it makes Yuuri's senses overflow. He can smell it, that mixture, and their own scents meeting it, and it only serves to heighten his primal lust. The growls that spill out of his mouth are something he cannot hold back, and neither is the pace as it quickens.

Deeper, harder, more, the urge to completely consume and fill Victor up all over again, and again, and again, until he's bloated with Yuuri's cum and drunk on the pleasure, is something that shocks Yuuri to the core. In the moment, however, he cannot find anything wrong with it. Victor is pleading for more no matter how hard Yuuri pounds into him, so it's completely out of Yuuri's hands.

Victor's body spreads for him, moulds to him and draws him in like it has been trained for it. Yuuri knows it hadn't, though. It's only the bond drawing each of their desires out in the open and amplifying that which they feel.

It's a true marvel, a wonderful thing the nature has devised, Yuuri thinks as his knot peeks from the rim of Victor's hole and Victor's soft whine reaches his ears at the breach. He looks so beautiful like this that Yuuri almost wants to never stop doing it, but neither of them have the strength for that tonight. Maybe one day, hopefully soon, but for now Yuuri spreads Victor's thighs with his knees and fucks him with his knot until Victor's thighs tremble against him and his spine is bent in a pretty little arch that Yuuri can't help but adore.

When Victor comes this time, he comes with a sharp cry, tugging at his cock with an impatient hand. He tightens on Yuuri's cock in a way that is enough for Yuuri to reach the height of his pleasure too, and soon Yuuri himself shakes with the force of his knot bursting seed once again. It remains swollen and remains inside Victor, because that's how they both want it – Yuuri knows simply from breathing Victor's scent in.

He can make out his happiness there, and his blissful pleasure, and his need to remain joined with Yuuri for as long as possible.

So, the good alpha he is, Yuuri lets him have it all. The moment he stops coming, he allows his limp body to slump over Victor's back for just a moment. Yuuri rests a kiss on Victor's nape, another one on the top of his head, and then gently rolls them both to the side without dislodging his knot from Victor's warm, full hole.  

It's an instinct, almost, that makes him reach over Victor's hip to rub a tender hand over Victor's belly. Sticky with Victor's cum as it is, it's also full of Yuuri's on the inside, and the thought brings out a very pleased growl from Yuuri's throat. It seems like that is enough to bring Victor's own happiness to the surface, because a low, tender purr starts from deep within his chest and wraps around them like a song of love and belonging.

"I knew you would like this." Victor's hand joins Yuuri's and their fingers twine together over the soft skin of his belly. "Are you pleased with me then, alpha?"

"Yuuri," Yuuri corrects him. "I may be your alpha, but I'm your husband first, Victor. You don't need to obey formalities with me. All I care about is that you're safe and happy, and provided for." When Victor says nothing to that, Yuuri sighs, and adds: "But yes, I am very pleased with you. In fact, I don't think anyone could please me more. You're wonderful, Victor."

It's his turn to be surprised, when Victor mumbles something softly.

"Forgive me, I didn't hear that. Come again?" he asks, because he isn't sure he'd heard right.

"Vitya," Victor says, sounding so happy, so sweet that Yuuri could not care less about what he's saying as long as he keeps saying it like that. "Call me Vitya, Yuuri. It's... it's a custom we have in Russia that spouses use diminutive forms of each other's names to show affection. So, if you wish, you can call me... Vitya."

Yuuri, heart filled to the brim with that same affection that sits so tenderly on Victor's tongue, can only rest a kiss against Victor's bare shoulder and fight back the tears of love and relief that sting at the corners of his eyes.  

"It would be my honour, Vitya."

The purring never stops.

 

 

***

 

 

When little Saki Victorovna Katsuki is born as the cherry blossoms sprout their petals again, neither of them have any regrets or reservations. The terms of the contract have been fulfilled, but as Yuuri looks at his husband, sitting up on a bedding of pillows and cradling their firstborn daughter to his chest with an angelic smile, he cannot imagine ever letting go of this happiness.

And neither can Victor, it so seems, for when their eyes meet his entire face softens with affection as deep as the one that sings in Yuuri's heart.

Slowly, Yuuri crosses the room to sit next to Victor, who must be tired after childbirth, yet he seems to be glowing with bliss. At his side sits little Yuri, who peers at the babe with a curious frown of disgust on his face, which brings more smiles to Yuuri and Victor, both. The healer has ordered Victor to rest when he left only some hour or so ago, and Yuuri wishes to relieve his husband some, let him sleep like he must want to, but he cannot find it in himself to pull their child away from him just yet.

So he sits there and he smiles, and he loves them all more and more by the second.

"Sa, written with the character for blooming of all things that bloom, like the spring when we first met," Yuuri explains in a quiet voice, looking at their little sweetheart. "Ki, for hope, because that's what has lead us here and what will continue to lead us as we raise this child to be healthy, happy and strong."

He presses his lips to the soft head of the babe and then looks up to his Vitya: his beautiful omega, his wonderful husband, his caring spouse and father of his only child. There are tears gathered in Victor's eyes, so with a sweet smile, Yuuri wipes them away.

"For tomorrow," he vows.

But Victor has never been one to simply follow his ways, and he doesn't do so now. He takes Yuuri's hand and kisses his palm, before making a vow of his own:

"Forever."

And Yuuri knows that they will both try their hardest to keep it.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing so much omegaverse these past few weeks that I don't even know anymore what I'm doing ycdutvyiubghn  
> I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading munchkins ❤️


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